12 on Ti

This Fall I had the pleasure of spending twelve hours, in painful 60 minute increments, on a titanium Litespeed. Bulletproof and with a premium on performance, there hardly was a better choice for my weekend warrior King of the Locals campaign.



A stellar bike built with traditionally nontraditional parts (v-brakes and tubeless clinchers, oh my!) there's nowhere else I'd have rather experienced the full frontal welcome and boisterous cyclocross series and scene that is Oregon. Someone described the Portland scene as more spectacle than sport, and I can't argue...though I wouldn't say that you could anymore separate the two than rank one above the other.



These were minor races but the Champions were always present, there to hone their form, socialize, and participate in a scene that is bigger than the sum of its parts. If one of us wasn't there, no one would even notice...but to be there made it all the better.



Each week I exposed a new skin. A chameleon of lycra and wool, it kept things fun and proved to be an experiment in the partisanism of the crowd. Some outfits screamed pro, others pro-tender...others were anonymous and a couple gave me undeserved street cred. I felt like a teenage girl staring at her closet for fifteen minutes each Sunday...wondering..."What should I wear today?"



What I enjoyed the best was the relaxed nature before and after the events. Folks I'd never met before races were friends after wards, and guys I'm friends with wouldn't hear a word from me for an hour despite us battling tooth and nail and never more than six feet apart for the event's duration. Then we'd commute home from the race, cars never leaving their driveways...well, save for the glacier killer driving this 4Runner.



What a bunch of hippies.



And really...the throw back pylon course markings are so retro, what else should I have expected?